


Out of Pebbles, Out of Stones

by stardropdream



Category: Tsubasa: Reservoir Chronicle
Genre: M/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-13
Updated: 2013-05-13
Packaged: 2017-12-11 18:51:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/802006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardropdream/pseuds/stardropdream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And it was in those moments that Yukito began to hope.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Out of Pebbles, Out of Stones

Growing up, although improper, it was Touya who comforted Yukito. The dreams, although not every night, could sometimes be all-encompassing, waking Yukito up in shivers and shouts. But Touya’s room was close enough, or perhaps Touya was steady enough, that he could always sense when Yukito was in distress, and find him. After years of it, Yukito knew that he was always welcomed in Touya’s room, too, if he needed that reassurance – that now was the present, and although the future would approach, for now, it was nothing. The dreams were fragments, sometimes sinister, sometimes benign. He was still learning to understand them, to decipher them, to control them. 

They started at a young age, when he first began to train, and even as they moved towards adulthood, he understood only little fragments. He was never as powerful as the princess or the queen. But there was still comfort for him. Touya would sit beside his bed through the night. Touya would hold his hand until the demons were banished and he could sleep, peaceful. And in the morning at breakfast, Touya would just smile at him from behind his drinking cup and Yukito knew that the world continued to spin on its axis, and they were okay. 

And in those years, he understood, slowly but surely, how deeply and completely he was in love with his future king, with his best friend – the only one who fully understood him and accepted him without question. It was never a true epiphany for him, but merely the gathering of little threads of feelings, one by one, weaving together until he was caught, and he understood . 

That, at least, wasn’t a burden. He couldn’t know Touya’s feelings for him in return, beyond the fact that Touya did care for him, and they were friends. But it wasn’t a burden to love Touya. Touya was much beloved in the kingdom, and for good reason. If he ended up merely being a loyal subject, an advisor, the king’s high priest, that would be alright. He didn’t let himself dare hope, didn’t dare to make comparisons between the current King and Queen and their positions of power and their deep, unrelenting love for one another. 

Instead, he devoted more energy to _not_ thinking about the slope of Touya’s shoulders, the way his hair curled around his ears, the way he smiled at him when he thought Yukito was funny, or the way he frowned into the distance, heavy with thought, whenever he thought no one was looking. 

Yukito understood it all completely. And it was alright.

 

\---

 

“To-ya, you’ve been scowling ever since Syaoran-kun returned home,” Yukito teased with a warm smile as he finally interrupted the prince’s reverie. He stood in the doorway to the library and his smile warmed when he saw Touya jump a bit, blink a few times, and turn away from the window, looking at Yukito with the same mystified expression he often wore whenever Yukito caught him staring off into space. 

Touya, for his part, didn’t bother to look embarrassed and just shrugged his shoulders, leaning back against the wall beside the window, arms crossed. But after a moment, his expression seemed to lax and Yukito approached him. 

“Just because she likes him doesn’t mean I have to like it,” was the weak protest and as Yukito stood beside him and glanced outside the window, he could see Syaoran walking the garden with Sakura, hand in hand. Syaoran’s traveling companions were lounging on the other side of the garden, sharing a bottle of the best Clow Country wine. 

Yukito smiled, turning his head to watch Touya’s face, who was looking at Yukito with only his usual amount of grumpiness. Yukito always found it charming. He reached out a hand and touched Touya’s arm, letting his fingers linger there. 

“It’s alright,” Yukito said. “No one would blame you for it, although when it comes to Sakura-hime, she really would scold you if she saw you just scowling at him from above.” 

Touya grunted and did not protest. Yukito sat down at the little bench before the window, continuing to smile up at him. He pat the spot beside him and after a moment, Touya moved to sit down beside him. 

“It isn’t bad, to love someone,” Yukito offered, smiling at Touya.

Touya grunted again, and this time his cheeks turned a little red. Whether from embarrassment at the turn of his conversation or from anger, Yukito wasn’t sure. He cleared his throat a few times and muttered, “I don’t trust that brat.” 

“I know, To-ya,” Yukito said softly, although he thought perhaps it was a little unfair – after everything they’d all been through, after everything Syaoran continued to do for Sakura. But, then again, he knew it was only because Touya was so protective of his sister. 

Touya sighed and leaned back against the window, looking over his shoulder down at the scene below, and Yukito did his best not to stare at the arch of Touya’s neck, at the slump of the fabric hanging off his shoulders, at the way the sun caught the highlights of his hair. Yukito stayed silent, just watching, and when Touya’s gaze shifted back to Yukito, Yukito was ready with a small smile. 

“It’s not so bad, though,” Yukito said, looking out the window and watching as Sakura knelt in the garden and started, undoubtedly, weaving together some flowers for a crown. “They both care for one another, so they’ll both look out for one another. It’s a comfort, happiness… to know your feelings are returned.” 

When he looked up again, Touya was watching him with an expression that Yukito couldn’t quite place. Yukito smiled at him, warm and soft, and, he hoped, not completely lovestruck. He was finding it harder and harder lately to pretend he wasn’t. Embarrassed, and self-conscious, Yukito looked away again, down at his hands in his lap, clasped together. 

“I guess,” Touya offered, reluctant, and when Yukito glanced up at him, he saw Touya looking away, blushing – but smiling, just a little. 

Yukito felt his chest constrict, and was silent for a long moment.

It was just as well, for Touya continued, “Hey, Yuki.”

“Yes?”

“Want to go take a walk outside?” 

Yukito smiled and nodded, happy for the change of subject – nervous that such a topic could veer close enough to something he wasn’t ready to admit. 

 

\---

 

But from that day forward, Yukito noticed the change in Touya. It was subtle at first. Touya smiled at him more. Found reasons to touch him – to take his hand to lead him when he started moving in the wrong direction, touching his back when trying to get his attention, his hand lingering on the inside of his wrist, warm breath against his cheek as Touya pointed to a spot on a document he was trying to decipher or work through. 

Yukito told himself it was his imagination, wishful thinking. But he couldn’t help but smile back in turn, respond in the only way he knew how, in the only way he wanted to: pulling bits of flowers from Touya’s hair when they took a walk through the gardens, patting his shoulder, letting his fingertips brush against the back of his neck before he could stop himself. 

They took more walks together. It seemed they spent more time together than before, which Yukito hadn’t realized he thought possible, since they’d spent so much time together before then. Yukito was grateful for it. Having meals with the royal family, advising Touya through his lessons, walking with him through the gardens or through the streets of the town, spending the evenings with him, reading or watching the stars from the castle roof. He was grateful for it all. He wanted more of it and yet was grateful for every moment he did receive. 

Surely they spent time away from one another, too. Yukito and Touya both had their own duties to attend to. Touya, in his training for one day becoming king, and Yukito, training to be High Priest as well as helping Sakura with her own ever-growing powers (although there would come a time when Sakura would grow into her powers and no longer need Yukito’s guidance, as he would always have less magic than she). All the same, in the evening, once both their obligations and lessons were over, they found time to walk together or to talk together. 

And it was in those moments that Yukito began to hope.

 

\---

 

When the nightmares returned, fragments of dreams from the future and past and those that had little or nothing to do with Clow Country, Yukito was ill-prepared. It’d been so long since he’d had one that he wasn’t sure how to respond to it, once he awoke and realized where he was. He was shaking, his body drenched in sweat, the blankets on his bed twisted around his legs. He felt constricted, and the fabric of his pajamas clung to his legs as he tried to kick the blankets off. 

His first thought was to seek out Touya, to find comfort in his presence. But he couldn’t summon that courage, couldn’t imagine finding his room in the dead of night, to be near him, and to remain in proper decorum (as much as could be expected when, in the end, entering the room of a royal family member is anything but proper). 

So he suffered in silence, shivering from the sudden chill in his blood, curling into himself and trying to relax enough to fall back to sleep. It was not forthcoming, but Yukito expected as much, admittedly. 

His hands fisted into the blankets and he focused first on steadying his breathing. A gentle in and out. Once satisfied, he relaxed each muscle, starting at his feet and working his way up. 

He managed to fall back asleep, after some time, but it was plagued with more nightmares and dreams throughout, heavy and oppressive in their dominance of his mind.

 

\---

 

Touya took one look at him the next morning, frowned, grabbed him by the wrist, and pulled him aside. Yukito sighed softly, although not surprised – he’d hoped that, perhaps, Touya would not notice just how exhausted he looked (and felt), but he should have expected that Touya was always too observant. The hold on his wrist was firm, but gentle, requesting his time without demanding it. Yukito followed him willingly, if only because it was too exhausting to protest with him.

Touya pulled him into the library, quiet and alone, the room warm and inviting and smelling of the ancient books gathered there. He dropped Yukito’s wrist, and Yukito quickly folded his hands behind his back, smiling at him.

“Your Highness, I—”

“Yuki,” Touya interrupted, and gave him that look that meant he shouldn’t call him that (an argument they’d had so many times in the past), “What’s wrong?”

Yukito smiled and sighed out, shaking his head and looking down. “You worry too much.”

“I worry enough,” Touya muttered, “So just tell me, okay?”

Yukito nodded absently but didn’t proffer the explanation that Touya was waiting for. Instead, he sighed, stepped forward, and rested his forehead against Touya’s shoulder. His heart was in his throat, thundering violently, a the sudden invasion of personal space, at the intimacy of such a gesture. He held his breath, waiting.

Touya wrapped his arm around Yukito. 

Yukito sighed out, relaxing marginally. The weight of Touya’s hand against his spine was a comfort, far more comforting than he realized it would be. And, it gave him that crisp, clear moment of thinking that maybe it really wasn’t just him. Maybe Touya felt it all, too. All signs pointed to yes, that there was no way this was a one-sided thing. Touya was not affectionate with many, and physical with even fewer. 

“I’m sorry,” Yukito murmured, not pulling away from Touya’s shoulder. He hesitated for a moment, and then curled his arms around Touya’s waist, hugging him. “The dreams returned.”

“Yuki—” Touya began, but Yukito cut him off with a small shake of his head.

“I know,” he said softly, and after a moment he felt Touya wrap both arms around him, hugging him back. Yukito smiled, gentle and warm, melting against his friend and future king. “Leave it to you to always notice these things, To-ya.”

 

\---

 

After that, Yukito paid careful attention, searching for any sign, any reason to hope. It was difficult not to take every little moment and view it as a sign of returned affection. It was difficult, because that’s what Yukito wanted more than anything.

Every smile, every moment spent with him, every flicker of his eyes towards Yukito and away again – each one was a small hopeful spark in the pit of Yukito’s gut, and he was unsure if he should kindle that flame or let it extinguish. 

At the very least, he knew that Touya would always be kind to him, would always be his friend. Touya was loyal and kind. Whatever happened after this, Yukito did not doubt that. But it was difficult how to see Touya, difficult to know just how deep his feelings for him ran – whether of friendship or something more. 

But he didn’t think that the looks they shared were just heated for him. That when Touya’s eyes immediately found him across the room, no matter the room, no matter the occasion, that there wasn’t something there. Yukito would never presume that there was longing, but there was something. There had to be something.

 

\---

 

He looked for those answers in the library, hands on Touya’s shoulders, leaning over him so that their cheeks were almost pressed together, so that he could read whatever it was that Touya was working on, pointing out the mistakes, humming in agreement over Touya’s arguments. 

He looked for those answers in the garden, as they walked together in the early dessert sun, Yukito daring to step closer, to slip his hand around the crook of Touya’s arm, and hold tight there, feeling that thrill when Touya didn’t even react, but accepted it without incident or question.

He looked for those answers, searching for them, desperate for them. 

And he told himself, after the last nightmare racked through his body, curling into himself – he told himself that he couldn’t be imagining it, that Touya felt the same way for him.

He desperately clung to the idea that Touya loved him, too.

 

\---

 

“To-ya?” Yukito asked quietly one morning as they walked through the garden, Yukito’s hand resting against Touya’s arm in a way that was almost natural but Yukito was still hyper-aware of. 

“Yeah?” Touya asked, glancing at him. 

Yukito looked down, uncertain, nervous – he hadn’t asked him of it in so long, he wasn’t sure if it would be pushing the boundaries. “Do you mind if… I stay nearby tonight?” 

Touya looked confused for half a moment, and then looked away, embarrassed. The embarrassment passed quickly enough because when he looked back at Yukito, his expression was calm.

“The nightmares are that bad, huh?” he asked, all sympathy.

Yukito smiled, wobbly. “Yes.” 

It was the truth. They’d gotten worse recently, and he couldn’t place why or pinpoint any of the dreams – they were all fragments, disjointed and disconnected. He worried about asking this of Touya, knowing how badly he wished for Touya. But if Touya said it was alright…

Touya nodded, his expression sympathetic. He lifted his hand, touching Yukito’s hand and giving it a small squeeze. 

“How long?”

“It’s been several weeks and—”

He cut off when Touya lifted his hand and pulled at Yukito’s cheek, completely deadpan. Before Yukito could sputter or recover from the sudden touch, Touya said, “You should have said so sooner.”

“I didn’t want to bother you,” Yukito said, rubbing at his cheek although it didn’t really hurt all that much.

Touya moved his hand back and touched Yukito’s hand, patting it gently, looking at him with the perfect serious that Touya was known for, and with which he intimidated people who never bothered to get to know him. 

“You aren’t a bother to me, Yuki,” Touya said. “I’ll stay with you as long as you need. So don’t be afraid to find me.”

Yukito smiled, and nodded. “Thank you.”

 

\---

 

It was all well and good to say as much, but once the night started to fall, Yukito was nervous. He swallowed thickly as he approached Touya’s room, taking the short few steps down the hallway to Touya’s room – avoiding the night guards or any stray passerbys. He really didn’t need anyone to witness him entering Touya’s room – and after years of their friendship, they both knew how to get to the other’s room without being seen. 

He knocked gently on the door and slipped inside. Touya was sitting up at his desk, but he turned his head when Yukito came in. Touya stood up quickly, almost quickly enough to accidentally knock his knees against his desk, but he just managed not to. Yukito offered him a small smile, hands clenched behind his back in the vain attempt to not let them shake. 

“Hi,” Yukito said, quietly, and was stunned by just how hesitant and quiet his voice was.

“… Hey,” Touya said, his voice equally as soft. He glanced at the bed and then at Yukito.

They stood there in a long silence, Touya looking at his feet, cheeks slightly pink, and Yukito looking at him. 

It was now or never, perhaps. He swallowed thickly, took a step back and sighed out. “I’m sorry… to bother you with this. But…”

“You aren’t a bother,” Touya said, quickly, walking to him, hand at his elbow. “It’s important that you be able to sleep. If… you know, it helps, then good.” 

“Thank you,” Yukito said, softly. “Should we sleep now?” 

“Sure.” Touya’s voice was so quiet. 

But silently they climbed into bed. Touya’s bed was large enough, but not nearly as large as it’d been when they were children, when Yukito would sneak into Touya’s room just so they could stay up late talking about everything and nothing well into the night and even as far as when the sun threatened to rise over the horizon. It was a large bed, but it felt small now as Yukito climbed onto one side, resting on his back and as far away from Touya as he could be. 

He was only here so he could sleep peacefully. That was all. 

He glanced over at Touya, who climbed into his bed and turned onto his side, back facing Yukito. 

Yukito was quiet, holding his breath. Neither of them said goodnight to each other. Maybe ten minutes passed while Yukito laid there, glancing at Touya. He could tell that Touya was still awake. After years of sleepovers, he could pinpoint exactly when Touya fell asleep from the sound of his breathing and the way his shoulders relaxed. Right now, he was just as awake as Yukito was. 

Yukito breathed in and breathed out, trying to steady himself, trying to muster a nerve that was building up his spine. He licked his lips, his throat suddenly feeling dry. 

 

\---

 

More and more minutes passed, and still neither of them were asleep. It was late into the night by now, Yukito could tell when he glanced out the archway to Touya’s balcony and could see the constellations hanging in the sky. He glanced at Touya’s back. Touya was completely still, his breathing a desperate attempt at remaining calm. 

Yukito mustered his nerve, rolled over onto his side, and wrapped his arm around Touya’s waist. His heart was thundering in his chest and he held completely still, terrified of Touya’s reaction.

Touya moved, settling back against him, and Yukito breathed out shakily. He waited to calm down a bit before shifting his hand on top of Touya’s arm, his thumb brushing over his knuckles and moving in slow, circular movements. Touya was completely still against him, but he didn’t say anything and didn’t pull away from him. Emboldened, Yukito traced his thumb up over Touya’s arm, to the bent of his elbow, lingering. 

Yukito swallowed thickly, his throat too dry and his heart pressing up against his chest and making a valiant effort to work its way up his throat. He tried to steady his breathing, tried to remain calm. But he’d come so far already, and he couldn’t turn back now. And more importantly, Touya wasn’t pulling away from him. He traced Touya’s fingers, worked over each knuckle, circled along each joint. After a moment, Yukito heard Touya’s breath hitch and when Yukito glanced at him, he could see that his ears were burning red. 

And then Touya shifted his hand under Yukito’s, turning so it was palm up. Touya slanted his neck back a little bit, pressing closer to Yukito. 

And if that wasn’t an invitation, Yukito wasn’t sure what was. He breathed out a soft gasp of relief, and pressed his and down into Touya’s, curling their fingers together. He felt the tiny thrill when Touya’s fingers curled protectively around Yukito’s, folding down against his knuckles. 

Yukito bent his head, pressed his mouth to the back of Touya’s neck, and felt Touya breathe out sharply in surprise – a pleasant surprise he hoped – and something that could have been Yukito’s name. 

“Should I stop?” he whispered, terrified about the answer. 

“No.” Touya’s voice was quiet, but the single word was resolute. 

Touya turned over to face him, and Yukito retreated a little, moving away from Touya, but still grasping his hand. Touya studied him, and Yukito held absolutely still, as if afraid that any movement would startled Touya, or, worse, startle Yukito awake – perhaps he really had fallen asleep after all. 

He meant to wait until Touya said something, but he couldn’t help it. He licked his lips, shifting closer, and whispered, “To-ya.” 

Touya nodded a little. 

Yukito felt the heat rising up over his face. “What do you want? I’ll do—anything, I… I know we’re—”

Touya shifted closer, lifting his hand to curl into Yukito’s hair, and pulled him into a kiss. It was a tentative kiss, chaste and uncertain. Yukito gasped quietly and clutched at Touya’s nightshirt, focusing on the touch of his lips against his own, the feel of his hand in his hair. It was clumsy, uncertain, and they pulled back from each other much too soon. 

“To-ya,” Yukito whispered. 

Touya breathed out, and he smiled, a little uncertain but infinitely precious to Yukito, who smiled back. 

“I was starting to doubt—I was… I was starting to think it was just me,” Yukito admitted, face pink. 

Touya shook his head, blushing more. He shifted closer and kissed Yukito again, who happily kissed him back, releasing Touya’s nightshirt so he could lift his hand and cup his cheek, thumb brushing over his cheekbone. 

When they pulled away, Touya muttered, “Yuki. Don’t doubt yourself again.” 

The hand on Touya’s cheek shifted, traced over his jaw and up into his hair, thumb tracing at an eyebrow and down over the slope of his nose. He pressed it against his bottom lip, tracing that, too, but was distracted when, with a red face and shy as Touya always was, he kissed Yukito’s thumb.

And that was enough for Yukito. He pushed back against Touya and curled up to him, mouth pressing insistently against his, one arm curling around his waist and kissing him with everything he had. He had no experience, nothing but his own desperate feelings to go off on, but Touya was the same, making a soft sound of surprise before kissing him back. 

They kissed for a long moment, insistent but tentative, unsure what to do and how to do it but fueled by the snapping of that tension, fueled on by that reassurance that, no, it wasn’t one-sided, it wasn’t just one of them. Touya made a soft sound as Yukito kissed him deeper, hands sliding up under his shirt and tracing up his chest, feeling the quiver of a thundering heartbeat under his hand, the rise and fall of his stomach as he pressed ever closer to Yukito, trying to kiss him more and unsure what to do. 

Yukito broke the kiss with a soft gasp, tossing the blankets aside and sitting up, pulling Touya up with him, kissing him absently as he worked on pulling his own shirt off, breaking the kiss only long enough to get that shirt off and tossing it aside. He fiddled with Touya’s, but as he tried to pull it up with Touya’s assistance, his arms got caught behind him and tangled in the process. Yukito kissed Touya hard and pushed him back against the bed anyway, climbing up over him, straddling his hips. 

He leaned down and kissed him, gentle, lingering, a stark contrast to the desperate way they’d been kissing each other until that moment. He leaned down, kissing him, feeling Touya wrap his arms around his back and holding him close, kissing him back with equal affection, and it was then that it all settled in on Yukito. Touya liked him, too. Touya wanted him. Touya was kissing him back. 

Yukito broke the kiss after a long moment and leaned back, taking the sight of Touya in. Appreciating the view of his heaving chest, body half-shadowed by the moonlight, muscled but slim save for the widening of his shoulders, which only occurred a few years ago, really. Yukito had always been slimmer than Touya, though. Touya was watching him, mouth parted slightly as he looked up at him, his eyes dark with desire. He shifted under Yukito, sitting up enough so he could pull his shirt off properly, leaning up and kissing Yukito gently. 

Yukito kissed him back, tracing his hands down Touya’s chest, over the slope of his shoulders, down over his sides and tracing at his hips. His fingers curled around the waistband of his pants and slid them down. Touya squirmed under him to help get those off, leaning back and pulling Yukito down with him, hand in his hair. Yukito made a soft, pleased humming sound into the kiss as he managed to tug the pants off all the way. But when his hands touched at the visibly tented underwear, he felt Touya tense up beneath him.

Yukito broke the kiss, blinking in sudden fear – that he’d gone too far, that he’d pushed too much, that Touya was going to want to slow down. He was terrified of stopping, of slowing down. His hands shook as he cupped Touya’s hips. 

“Should I stop?” Yukito whispered. There was a long enough pause that Yukito truly began to fear that this was it, but all Touya did was shake his head.

“You, too,” he said, voice quiet and shy, and his eyes flickered away as he tugged at Yukito’s pants. 

Yukito smiled, warm and gentle, and leaned in to kiss him again, helping him out of the rest of his clothes. He kissed him harder once he was naked, suddenly self-conscious, uncertain, nervous about what Touya would do or think. Hands shaking, he pulled off the last of Touya’s clothing. 

It was Touya who broke the kiss, then, blinking up at him. Yukito offered him a tentative smile, which Touya returned after a moment, warm and affectionate and only for Yukito. Yukito’s breath stilled, and he dropped his eyes down, taking in Touya beneath him. And when he glanced up at Touya, he saw that Touya was watching him, too, tracing every line of his body with his eyes. 

And then Touya shifted under him, tugged Yukito closer, hand on his back, his other hand reaching out to curl around his cock and squeezing gently.

Yukito gasped and arched up, bucking into his hand before he could control himself. His entire body shuddered with pleasure. He slumped down until he sat, slowly, rolling his hips down to writhe against Touya’s cock. Touya gasped, the strokes of his hand pausing. 

Yukito whispered his name, rolling his hips down so that Touya gasped. It didn’t take long until they both moved with more confidence, smooth movements. Touya stroked Yukito without taking his eyes off Yukito’s face except for when Yukito drove his hips down hard and Touya’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment as he moaned, louder than he expected. Yukito breathed out softly, reaching a hand down to curl around Touya’s cock, guiding it against him, writhing his hips and feeling the cock slide against him as Touya stroked his own. 

Like that, it didn’t take long at all, and it was Touya who tensed up first, his back arching, his stomach hollowing out as he breathed, blinking up at Yukito, his face flushed and eyes flickering whenever he met Yukito’s eyes, unable to handle being watched, perhaps. Touya looked away, eyes closing as he arched up, and with a few jerks of his hips, Yukito feels him come with a low moan, feeling the warmth against his back as Touya came. Yukito stroke him, milking him dry, reaching down with his free hand to turn Touya’s head up so he could kiss him, distracted and sloppy. He rolled his hips down, not quite whimpering but the sound he made was pleading. Touya resumed his strokes and it was only a few moments later before Yukito was jerking his hips up and coming into Touya’s hand with a soft moan of his name. 

It was over far too quickly. Yukito wanted to keep going, wanted to do more. But instead, he slumped down against Touya, a tangle of limbs and sweat. He breathed out a soft laugh, kissing Touya’s neck. He felt Touya’s hands on his back, stroking at his spine. Yukito nuzzled against his neck, lifted his head and kissed his jaw and his ear, smiling against the curve of his skin, whispering his name so quiet it wouldn’t have been audible if he hadn’t been so close to Touya’s ear.

“To-ya,” he whispered out happily, nuzzling and kissing. 

Touya breathed out, turned his head and kissed Yukito, the kiss surprisingly chaste and only a touch distracted. Yukito tangled his fingers into Touya’s hair, keeping him close. He predicted there weren’t going to be any nightmares tonight. Touya kissed him, gentle and kind – and Yukito responded with all the warmth and love he could summon. No nightmares tonight.


End file.
